Date 6 : Boat To Sail
by oneiromancer242
Summary: Another one-shot in the Date Series. Dating Peter does not come without missteps and difficulties, as Angela learns repeatedly.


**A/N : "Strangers" is getting a bit grim, what? Why don't I lighten things up with another of Spark and Quicksilver's disastrous early dates.**

Date Number Six was the worst yet. Having figured out that her beau had a squishy Romantic heart under all that posturing and cool, Angela had thought the idea would be a wonderful surprise. Had carried on thinking that right up until the point when she had finally bought the tickets, and presented them with a flourish, meeting him from the Danger Room one afternoon when her classes were over.

"Ta-daaa!" she beamed, held up the two little card oblongs, "how does a romantic cruise for two sound to you?"

Peter hesitated, gave her a reluctant smile. Concentrating on pulling his gauntlets off carefully and about to reply when Jean had caught up to them, beamed at both

"Oh Angie that is so _cute!_ " she told them, "I wish Scott would be so thoughtful sometimes."

"Well, y'know –" Peter began, cut off by the redhead, this time giving him an uncharacteristic squeeze around the shoulders

"I just can't imagine anything nicer – lapping water, dim lights, the smell of the breeze! You guys are _so_ lucky"

"Yeah…. We're so lucky" Peter echoed, faintly, "Did you eat yet, Sparky? I kind of feel like tacos"

"I book him a river cruise and all he can say is I Want Tacos" Angela exchanged a good natured eye-roll with Jean before allowing Peter to lead her away.

"I didn't mean it like that," he'd said quietly as soon as they were out of earshot, "It's just… well, it's a surprise, is all. You know how I am with surprises"

"I do. Which is why it's in four days time. I'm still not over the time Jubilee decided on a whim to take us all ice-skating. Trust me, I have *learned* how you are with surprises"

That had been a bad enough incident all by itself. Most of the gang were fair to middling skaters, but despite his preternatural sense of balance, Peter had soon discovered that nerves and super-speed didn't mix with ice at all well, and ended up limping home between Scott and Jubilee with a twisted ankle and two badly battered kneecaps. Peter and unexpected adventures didn't go.

It wasn't until later, showered and sadly changed out of the form-fitting black combat suit, that Angela had been reaching with a napkin to clean an errant splash of chilli sauce off Peter's face that she'd finally said

"Do you not want to go? On the cruise, I mean"

"What gives you that idea?!"

"Well…. You just don't exactly seem overjoyed, that's all. I mean if it's too mushy then –"

"Angie, it's a lovely thought" he told her comfortingly, reached for the hand that held the napkin and took it softly, "It was just totally unexpected. That's all"

"There's going to be music," she told him, curled her fingers around his, "Not the noise you listen to, classical music. And candles. We can be properly romantic for a change"

"Yeah," he grinned at her, "Just for a change."

For once in his life, the intervening four days had passed far too quickly for Peter's liking. At least this time he didn't have to smarten up for the occasion, though he had picked his best jeans without any holes in the knees just so he didn't show Angela up too much. Had been still swallowing his nerves and grasping tightly to her hand when they had finally been in sight of the small boat some enterprising soul had chartered. There were many many ways to make money in New York, but a couple's cruise on the Hudson had seemed like the best of them to Angie as soon as she'd found out about it.

The boat looked beautiful, bedecked with candles in storm lanterns that lit the place softly and kindly, not too many people around, a string quartet perched in the bow serenading the few couples gently. She sighed, forgot the noisy city on the shore, and grasped tightly onto the handsome boy beside her. Candlelight set his skin off perfectly, picked glittering highlights in his dark eyes and made his hair shine even more than usual. He gave her what looked like a strained grin, grasped her hand back almost a little too tightly. She put it down to his jittery nerves at being out so publicly – he still wasn't great at that – and had soon been seated with him watching the little waves whilst they had put out to deeper waters.

"It's kinda beautiful from out here, isn't it?" she said dreamily, stared out at the floodlit bulk of Ryker's Island in the water, "Even the prison looks good. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah… totally," Peter told her, sounding small and quiet, bringing her attention back to him toying with his food and making her frown in concern

"Something up with the steak, Pup?" she asked. He shook his head, shoved in a mouthful as if to prove it

"No! Not at all… everything's… great. Perfect. Everything's perfect"

"Except the fact that you're a bag of nerves, yeah" she told him drily, reached and squeezed his shoulder, "What's up? I mean really"

"Nothing! I just…" he paused, sighed, gave her a wan smile, "Nothing's up, hon. I promise. Just enjoy yourself"

"The point was to enjoy ourselves together"

"Well do you think we could do that on dry land next time maybe?" he suggested. Pushed his unfinished plate away, offered her another wobbly smile, "just a suggestion"

"Oh god…" she looked aghast, gripped his shoulder harder, "Oh hell… you get seasick, don't you?"

"Horribly" he confessed, "But don't worry, it's only a short trip"

"Pup, you look grey. Green-grey. Why the hell didn't you TELL me?!"

"I didn't want to spoil anything!" he told her in a miserable little whisper, "I'm sorry – I just… you seemed really happy about this. I didn't want to make it hard and be awkward like I always am"

"So you decided to put yourself at risk instead"

"Yeah" he said, glanced down at his lap, "Sorry"

Angela sighed, scooted her chair closer so she could slip an arm around him, kissed him softly on the cheek. There were heat lamps dotted around to keep the chill off, but he still felt cold against her.

"That's pretty romantic" she told him with a smile, "Don't do it again"

For a while they had simply sat, Angela watching the waves and Peter keeping his eyes fixed on whatever static point he could find, fighting down the bile creeping up his throat and trying not to twitch. After what had seemed like an eternity to him, they had finally arrived back at the dock. Keeping his arm around a beaming Angela to hide the unsteady legs, making it all the way back to the lighted streets before he had suddenly let her go, held up a finger and said hurriedly

"Wait right there"

Before he had vanished into an alleyway. By the time he had emerged, red-eyed and looking pale, she had slipped out of her Winter coat, holding it out to drape it over his shoulders. It was scarlet, and really not his cut, but he gave her an apologetic smile and pulled it around himself gratefully.

"I called your Dad from a payphone," she told him, held him tight against her for warmth, "He's going to come pick us up"

Peter nodded, shivered against her

"Was he mad?" he asked quietly. Angela laughed, reached to gently rub his back

"Nope. But he did give me a good piece of advice"

"He does that." Peter sighed, "What'd he say?"

"He said next time I wanted to take one of his kids out on a boat, take him first for a demo of how bad an idea that is" she shrugged, grinned at the shivering boy in her arms, "apparently the X Gene isn't the only thing that runs in the family."

To his own surprise, Peter chuckled, regretted it as the motion made his stunned stomach muscles clench painfully. Grasped on tighter to her and felt her lips very gently graze his ear.

"If you let me get to my inside coat pocket, there's a couple Twinkies in there" she whispered. He allowed it, took them from her with a genuine fond smile.

"You carry Twinkies when you're around me" he said, grinned, "Now _that_ is real romance."


End file.
